


Below the Surface

by EstherA2J



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Anger, Angst, Canon Compliant, Dark, Destruction, Drama, Dysfunctional Relationships, Family, Family Drama, Fatherhood, Fear, Gen, Hate, Hatred, Hearing Voices, Hurt, In Character, Loss, Obsessive Behaviour, One Shot, POV First Person, Protectiveness, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstherA2J/pseuds/EstherA2J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the beginning, he was a tempest of violence and tears, a toddler throwing himself on the floor in a desperate attempt to get his way and, of course, he hated me. But it is anger that gives me life, and it is hate that gives me strength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Below the Surface

He was always there, just below the surface, at the edge of my sight: whiny and infuriating. In the beginning, he was a tempest of violence and tears, a toddler throwing himself on the floor in a desperate attempt to get his way and, of course, he hated me. But it is anger that gives me life, and it is hate that gives me strength. I reveled in his darker emotions, encouraging them, feeding off of them. Unfortunately, he caught on to this and, using some damned Jedi meditation technique, he eventually calmed himself.

His aggravating voice was still there, however, questioning every decision I made, and arguing with everything I did. When I was resting or meditating, he tried to replay his happier memories, but that I would not tolerate and I would immediately slap him down. He was weak and would flee, whimpering.

Eventually, his constant blather faded into the background, and was hardly noticeable—like the sound of a ship's engines after weeks in space. Once in awhile, his voice would rise up in indignation at some perceived slight, but these episodes grew farther and farther apart until years passed with nothing out of him but the continuous monotonous grumbling.

Then we found the boy. And the grumbles vanished. All was silent. I hadn't realized how accustomed I had become to the sound until it was gone.

The silence stretched for several days, and I began to wonder if he was finally gone. Then he spoke two words: "My son." His voice was choked with tears. I tried to shut him up, but somehow I couldn't. The anger and hate that fueled and sustained me was draining away, and in its place was the one thing that was the most toxic to my existence: love.

I had used his love before though, and turned it into fear. As all Jedi know, fear leads to anger which leads to hate. This was how I had taken him in the first place. Doing it again would be simple. Or so I thought. Somehow, I underestimated him.

He had learned much from me over the years, and now he managed to convince me that the boy could be a powerful ally, that I could turn him too, that together we could take down my master and rule as father and son. It sounded so logical, so reasonable; I should have known he had an ulterior motive.

His only concern was to preserve his son's life. And when the boy wouldn't fall, and my master was giving him the proper punishment befitting his actions, Anakin rose up, snatched control from me, and banished me to oblivion.


End file.
